The talk about an Ohio Vietnam Veterans Day last week made Charles McGinnis think of his
dad.

“He believed in his country and all the good things it stands for,” McGinnis said. “He said he
went over there to protect our freedom, to protect Mom and his boys.”

But like many Vietnam vets, the homecoming of Henry Franklin McGinnis —“Frankie” to family and
friends — did not have a happy ending.

McGinnis returned in late 1970 after two tours of duty as a combat engineer in Vietnam. But he
did not come back unscathed. When he died in 1985, his body eaten away by the chemical Agent
Orange, his life abbreviated to 34 years, McGinnis was as much a casualty of war as if he had died
in the jungle 8,000 miles away.

By the end, McGinnis had lost both legs up to his groin, his left hand and all his teeth. His
kidneys had shut down, and he had congestive heart failure. But through it all, family members say,
he never complained or expressed bitterness about his service in the war or what his own government
had unwittingly done to him.

“In my eyes, he was my hero,” said Mary Ann McGinnis, 58, of Columbus, his wife of 13 years. “He
was an inspiration. I feel he’s always with us. He watches over the boys, he watches over me.”

Charles McGinnis, 38, also of Columbus, wants the state to approve a day to honor Vietnam
veterans like his father, many of whom came home from the unpopular war to jeers and stares, or
complacency at best.

“I want him to be remembered,” McGinnis said. “I want people to know his story. He was a great
individual.”

Retired Air Force Col. Thomas N. Moe, head of the Ohio Department of Veterans Services and a
combat pilot who spent five years as a POW, told a legislative committee last week that Vietnam
veterans want “the recognition that our forefathers got when they came home from previous wars and
that our sons and daughters are receiving today.

“A simple ‘thanks’ from friends, neighbors, government or the public at large is often the
veteran’s most cherished reward.”

After the measure languished for around two years, the Ohio Senate unanimously approved the
legislation designating Vietnam Veterans Day as March 30, sending the bill to the Ohio House for
consideration.

Frankie McGinnis enlisted in the Army when he was 19, helping build and rebuild roads and
bridges in Vietnam in 1969-70. During that time, he was repeatedly exposed to Agent Orange, a
powerful chemical defoliant sprayed by U.S. forces on the jungles and farms of Vietnam and Laos. He
told his wife he would see planes coming to spray the jungle, “and we would feel wet stuff like
rain, and we would be soaked in it.”

McGinnis came back a skinny, 6-foot-2, battle-toughened veteran of 21. He met his future wife,
and they began dating in July 1971; six months later, they were married.

Unknown to McGinnis, his repeated exposure to Agent Orange — since discovered to be an
aggressive carcinogen — had taken its toll, While working two jobs — days at Buckeye Steel on the
South Side and nights at a gas station — he began developing sores on his hands. Later, sores
appeared on his feet.

A doctor told him later that he had a new kind of cancer that was eating his body from the
outside in. It would take his limbs, then attack his digestive track, his kidneys, and eventually
stop his heart. No one used the words Agent Orange in those days, especially at veterans hospitals,
where it was a banned topic for diagnosis and discussion.

“At the time, we didn’t know what was going on,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “They ended up doing every
test they could think of.”

Despite the couple’s problems, three sons came along: Charles in 1973, Kevin in 1974 and Scott
in 1976.

“By the time I was 7 or 8,” Charles McGinnis said, “I really started to see what was going on.
Dad would be gone to the hospital for a few weeks or a few months. You never knew when he was
coming back. Each time when he came back, there was something missing.”

He couldn’t play ball with his dad, but he does remember going fishing with him when they lived
in Mississippi for a short time.

Eventually, the complaints of returning veterans about Agent Orange rose to a crescendo.
McGinnis joined a class-action lawsuit against the manufacturers of the chemical. His widow got
$3,400 after his death from a $180 million national settlement.

On Jan. 25, 1985, four days after their 13th wedding anniversary, Mrs. McGinnis had a long
telephone conversation with her husband. He was in Charleston General Hospital; she was home 35
miles away in Hamlin, W.Va., where they had moved to be closer to his parents.

“I love you,” he told her. “You tell my boys that I love them with all my heart. I want you to
make sure my boys finish school. I want you to promise me if you meet somebody that they’re good to
our boys.”

Two days later, he was gone.

“I’ve never seen a person in as much pain as he went through and be as strong as he was. He
amazed me,” Mrs. McGinnis said. “There’s not a day go by I don’t love him.”

And now, 37 years later, his family just wants a little recognition for Henry Franklin McGinnis,
son of a coal miner, Vietnam veteran, husband, father.